Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover art]
BILLY WHISKERS'
TRAVELS
BY
F. G. WHEELER
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
CARLL B. WILLIAMS
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
CHICAGO -- AKRON, OHIO -- NEW YORK
MADE IN U. S. A.
Copyright 1907
by
The Saalfield Publishing Co.
*CONTENTS*
CHAPTER
I. Billy Runs Away from Home
II. He Loses his Mother
III. Billy Sees his Mother Again
IV. The Burgomaster is Bumped
V. The Wooden Goat
VI. A Celebration with Fireworks
VII. Billy Finds his Mother
VIII. An Encounter with the Tiger
IX. Alone in an Ocean Storm
X. The Goats Become a Fiery Dragon
XI. Billy Joins a Happy Family
XII. Billy Earns his Name
XIII. A Happy Reunion
ILLUSTRATIONS
A Boat was lowered to rescue Billy. (missing from source book)
"Grab him, Caspar! Hold him!"
Billy saw him coming, and splashed around to the far side of the
fountain.
Billy felt his courage coming back.
"Well, old fellow, if broken bones are all, we can fix those."
"Shake hands," said Bobby.
*CHAPTER I*
*BILLY RUNS AWAY FROM HOME*
The other kids of the big flock on the pretty Swiss farm thought that
they were having a very nice time, but Billy did not like it very well.
He could run faster, jump higher and butt harder than any of the other
kids of his age, and he wanted more room. Nearly every day he stopped
for a while beside the high fence and looked out through it at the green
slopes that ran up to the mountains. The leaves looked so much fresher
and more tender there, and the sun so much brighter; besides, there were
rocky places--he could see them--which would make such fine playgrounds
and jumping places. His wise old mother shook her head when he told her
about these things.
"You are too little yet, Billy," she always said. "You are not yet
strong enough to be out in the world alone, even if you could get away
from here."
"Just wait till I get big," Billy would say, shaking his head, and then
he would scamper away to slyly nip the whiskers of some sober old goat,
or to romp or play fight with one of the other youngsters.
He was the most mischievous kid in the flock, and because of that his
mother named him Billy Mischief. Farmer Klausen, who owned him, was
nearly as proud of him as Billy's own mother could be.
"That's the smartest and strongest young goat I've got," he used to brag
to his neighbor, fat Hans Zug, but for all that he kept a sharp eye on
Billy and would not allow him to break away from the flock and escape,
as he sometimes tried to do when they were being driven across the road
from one pasture to another.
One day, when Billy was almost a full-grown goat, his chance came at
last. Farmer Klausen was standing in the middle of the road to see that
none got away, while his boys were driving the flock over to the lower
meadows. Billy, who came up with the others, looking as innocent as a
goat can look, suddenly wheeled, and with a hard jump landed his broad
head and horns square in the stomach of his master. Farmer Klausen gave
a yell, threw up both his hands and went heels over head into the dust,
while Billy, scampering over him, ran as hard as he could for the hills.
Coming down the road toward him was fat Hans Zug with a yoke across his
shoulders from which hung two great pails of goat's milk which he was
taking down to the chocolate factory in the valley. Slow-witted Hans,
when he saw neighbor Klausen's goat getting away, never thought of
setting down his pails, but spread out his arms and stood square in the
middle of the road, waving his hands and shouting: "Shoo! Shoo!" It
was a big mistake to think that he could scare this scamp goat by saying
"Shoo!" or by keeping his fat body in the road, for Billy came straight
on with his head down, and just as Hans thought that maybe he had better
step to one side, Billy gave a mighty leap and doubled Hans up just like
he had Farmer Klausen.
"A thousand lightnings yet again!" yelled Hans as he went over. The two
pails came down with a thud and a swish, and goat's milk ran all over
the road and down the gulleys at the side. Hans Zug's dog, which had
been sniffing at the roadside to see if he could find the trail of a
rabbit, now jumped out and came at Billy. With one jerk of his strong
little neck the runaway goat picked the dog up on his horns and tossed
him clear over his head, where he landed plump on top of fat Hans and
knocked the breath out of him for a second time, just as Hans was
getting up. Then Billy, feeling fine from this nice bit of exercise,
kicked up his heels and galloped on.
[Illustration: The two pails came down with a thud and a swish]
Just as he reached the woods he turned around and looked back. Farmer
Klausen was on his feet again but had no time to chase Billy, for he was
cracking his long whip and running from one side of the road to the
other to keep the rest of the goats from breaking away. Billy could hear
his loud voice from where he stood. Hans had also rolled to his feet
and was holding his pudgy hands across his stomach, where he had been
hit, while he looked dumbly at the rich, yellow milk which was in
puddles everywhere. Thick-headed Hans was just making up his mind that
the milk had really been spilled when another goat dashed by him, as
fast as its feet could patter. As it drew nearer Billy saw with joy
that it was his mother, and he waited for her. When she came close
Billy called to her:
"Hurry up! We are never going back any more."
He kicked up his heels again in pure delight and was about to plunge
into the woods when his mother called on him to wait, and he did so,
though he did not like to do it, for the last of the flock was now
safely in the other pasture, the gate was being closed on them and Billy
knew that in a moment more Farmer Klausen and his boys and neighbor Hans
would be coming after them.
When Billy's mother came up even with him she was panting so hard that
she could not speak, but she did not stop. She kept right on running,
and he followed, curious to see what she meant to do. As soon as they
were out of sight of the men, she turned from the road into the woods,
and by-and-by reached a little hollow which was all overgrown with
bushes. Into this she raced, and Billy, now seeing what she was up to,
scampered lightly along behind, thinking it to be great fun. The hollow
grew deeper and wider and shadier as they went on, and at last she
turned and scrambled up the dim, pebbly bank, where she plunged into a
dry little cave. Here she lay down upon the ground to get her breath,
while Billy climbed in beside her and listened. Soon he could hear the
heavy pat, pat, of the feet of Farmer Klausen and his boys on the road,
which was now high above them.
"They'll never find us here," he said.
"Don't 'baah' so loud or they will hear us," panted his mother. "My!
I'm getting too fat to run any more, but if you were bound to go out in
the world, I was bound to come with you. You're not old enough even yet
to be trusted alone. But you are right about one thing; unless they
catch us, we're never going back."
Suddenly they both became very still. The noise of the footsteps had
died away, but there was a slow rustling of the leaves in the hollow.
Something was coming toward them!
Nearer and nearer to where Billy and his mother lay hidden came the
noise, and soon they saw a dim, dark-gray shape among the underbrush
turn straight up toward them. It was a large wild boar, one of the
fiercest animals that rove the forests of Europe. It had a great,
shaggy head and cruel-looking curved tusks nearly a foot long. The two
goats were in one of his hiding-places, and they knew that he would not
stop to say "Beg your pardon" when he came up; whatever he had to say
would be said with those sharp tusks. The space was too narrow for them
to run out past him. Billy's mother was scared, but not Billy.
"The only thing for us to do is to fight," said he, and, jumping to his
feet, he stood at the mouth of the little cave and gave a loud "baah!"
which was to warn the boar that it had better go about its business.
The boar stopped and looked up at Billy with little wicked eyes, then he
gave a loud snort, and, lowering his head, started to run straight up
the hill toward them. Billy waited until the boar was close upon him,
then he gave a sudden jump and landed square upon the fierce animal's
back. The beast squealed and whirled around to rip Billy with his
tusks, but before he could do so Billy himself had whirled and had
hooked the big animal in the side. There was another squeal and Billy
jumped out of the way. The animal turned and dashed after him, but in
turning, his side was for an instant toward the mouth of the cave. It
was just that instant for which Billy's mother was watching, and with
all her might she jumped, butting him in the side with such force that
he went rolling over and over, squealing and grunting, into the hollow.
Billy was for jumping down after him but his mother knew better than
that. She knew that it would be only an accident if they could whip this
wicked animal, as the boar was so much the stronger, and that it was
better to run than fight.
"Come quickly!" she cried, springing up the hill.
Billy stood for a moment, hardly knowing whether to follow her or not,
but just then the boar scrambled to his feet and started after them,
snorting and with fire-red eyes.
"Billy! Billy!" screamed his mother. "Do as I tell you!"
Even then, Billy, who never had known what it was to be afraid, wanted
to stay and fight it out, but the sight of his mother scampering up the
hill decided him. He was more afraid that he might lose her than he was
that he could not whip the boar, so he took after her. The boar was
also a good runner, but he was not nearly so nimble a climber as the
goats and they soon out-distanced him, gaining the road, where they ran
on as fast as they could go.
The road soon came to a narrow place where the trees stopped and the
rocks rose straight up on either side. They were half way through this
narrow stretch when Billy's mother stopped.
"Goodness!" she exclaimed. "I forgot about Farmer Klausen and his boys.
They will be coming back past this way pretty soon, and if they meet us
in here there will be trouble. We can't turn back on account of the
boar and they will surely catch us."
"Well, then," said Billy, once more showing his bravery, "if we can't go
back on account of the boar, we might just as well go on ahead and meet
whatever comes, as to stand here wasting time. Maybe if we hurry we can
get out before they get to us."
"I'm proud of you, Billy," said his mother.
They started to run on again, but had no more than done so when, sure
enough, they saw a man coming toward them. It was fat Hans Zug, and the
minute they saw who it was Billy laughed.
"Just watch me roll him over," he said, and started, as hard as he could
go, toward the big round farmer.
When Hans saw Billy coming toward him this time he did not wave his arms
and cry, "Shoo!" In place of that he put his hands on his stomach and
turned around to run away from this little, white cannon-ball of a goat.
It was comical to see the fat fellow waddling along, holding his hands
in front of him, but he was making such slow progress that Billy felt
sorry for him and thought that he ought to help him a little. It only
took a few jumps to catch up with Hans and then--biff!--he struck him
from behind so hard that Hans almost bounced when he hit the ground.
"A thousand lightnings, yet again!" yelled poor Hans.
He was just grunting his way to his hands and feet again when Billy's
mother came along behind and--whack!--she gave him another tumble. This
time he did not stop to look in either direction, but rolled over to the
side of the road and, getting to his feet, tried to claw his way up the
steep rocks, feeling almost sure that a whole regiment of goats of all
colors and sizes was after him.
"Ten thousand, a hundred thousand lightnings!" wailed Hans. Billy,
nearly laughing himself sick, waited for his mother, and when she came
up they both pranced on. They had nearly reached the end of the narrow
pass when they saw coming toward them Farmer Klausen and his two boys.
The boys were running on ahead, quite a little distance in front of
their father, and Billy said quickly:
"You take Chris and I will take Jacob!"
So when they came up to the boys they just dived between their legs.
Billy upset Jacob easily enough, but Chris was lighter, and when the
fatter goat tried to escape between his legs he simply fell over on top
of her. Without stopping to think what he was doing, he grabbed his
arms about her middle and hung tight, while she raced on for dear life.
By this time they were up to the farmer. Billy easily dodged him, but
it was not so easy for his mother. With Chris hanging on her back,
Farmer Klausen was able to grab her by the horns and hold her tight.
[Illustration: He grabbed his arms about her middle and hung tight.]
"Billy, Billy! Help!" squealed his mother, and Billy whirled around to
come back at once. He flew through the air as if he had been shot out
of a gun, and when he landed against the stooping Farmer Klausen, that
surprised man turned a somersault clear over Chris and the old goat,
then Billy's mother easily shook Chris loose and away they went again.
As soon as they got through the narrow pass they turned once more into
the woods, which here sloped upward. They had now passed the last of
the farms, and beyond them lay nothing but wooded hills and the
mountains. Up and up they scrambled until at last, near nightfall, they
came to a little, grass-grown tableland, watered by a tiny stream that
tumbled down from the mountains, and here, after taking a long drink,
they rested. After a while they made a good meal from the tender young
grass that grew at the side of the stream, and lay down again. Soon
they were fast asleep, side by side.
It was nearly midnight and the moon was shining brightly overhead, when
they were both awakened by a terrific scream, and at the same moment a
soft, heavy body landed upon Billy's back! Sharp claws struck his hide
and sharp teeth sank into the back of his neck!
[Illustration: "GRAB HIM, CASPAR! HOLD HIM!"]
*CHAPTER II*
*HE LOSES HIS MOTHER*
It was a mountain lynx that had sprung upon Billy from the rocks above.
This lynx often came down to the highest of the goat farms, and had many
times annoyed fat Hans Zug and Farmer Klausen by stealing nice, fat
young kids for his supper. This time, however, he had met his match,
for Billy's mother no sooner saw the animal light upon her offspring
than she scrambled to her feet, and, with a short, quick jump, plunged
her sharp horns into his side. The lynx screamed, and loosing his grip
on Billy, turned to fight with the mother goat. The moment his weight
was lifted, Billy, quick as a flash, ripped at the underside of the
beast with his sharp horns. That made the animal snarl and loosen his
hold upon Billy's mother, and between them they soon, in this way, gave
the lynx more than he had bargained for, so that presently he fled
howling up the steep rocks with the two goats chasing him as far as they
thought it safe. Then they came back to their grassy spot, and bathed
their hurt places in the cool, running water.
"Now, Billy, you see what the world is like," said his mother. "Don't
you wish that we were safely back in Farmer Klausen's pasture?"
Billy dipped his scratched hind leg in the water and held it there while
he shook his head.
"No," he said, "this is better. Only I'm glad that I didn't get a
chance to run away until I was so big and strong."
His mother sighed, but looked at him proudly.
"You are a brave young goat," she said, "and it would be a shame to keep
you shut up in a pen."
In the morning they were a little stiff from their hurts, but Billy was
still eager to travel and see the world, so they went on into the
mountains. About noon they followed a little ravine down to a plateau
where there was a whole herd of chamois. These graceful animals are
about the size of a goat, but they are not so heavily built and are much
swifter. At first the chamois did not want to let the goats join them,
but old Fleetfoot, the leader of the herd, said that they might stay if
they were not quarrelsome, but that they would have to look out for
themselves if hunters came that way.
This little plateau was a beautiful place, all carpeted with grass and
backed up by towering rocks. At one end was a cliff looking out over a
valley, at the further end of which was a little village. Billy, in his
eagerness to see the world, ran at once to the edge of the cliff.
"You reckless Billy!" cried his mother, running after him. "Don't go so
close to that cliff or you will surely fall over and break your neck!"
"I'm not afraid," boasted Billy, and actually stood on his hind legs at
the very edge.
[Illustration: Stood on his hind legs at the very edge.]
Just then a few loose stones came rolling down the ravine, and like a
flash the entire herd of chamois were gone, leaping across a broad chasm
to a little ledge upon the other side, where there was a second path
that led among the rocks.
"Oh, what shall we do?" cried Billy's mother. "Here come two hunters
with guns, and we can't jump where they did. Why, it's twelve feet
across there!" She was frightened half to death but not for herself,
for she threw herself squarely between Billy and the hunters.
The hunters were ignorant fellows, and as soon as they caught sight of
the two goats they thought that these also were chamois, and one of
them, lifting his gun, shot at them, grazing the head of the mother
goat. She toppled over against Billy, and that knocked him over the
cliff. If it had not been for a small tree which grew out of the cliff
about half way down, Billy would have been dashed to death, but the tree
broke his fall and so he only lay in the valley stunned, while the
hunters picked up his mother and in great glee carried her away,
thinking they had shot a chamois.
When they got back to their guide he told them their mistake, and saw,
too, that the goat was only stunned; so they gave it to him and he sold
it next day to a man who was buying some extra goats for Hans Zug, to
stock a goat farm in America.
In the meantime poor Billy lay almost dead at the base of the cliff,
where a man found him about an hour later.
"You poor goat!" said the man, looking up at the cliff. "Did you fall
down from that dizzy height?" and he put his hand on Billy's sleek coat.
"At least you are not dead," he went on, feeling Billy's heart beat.
"I'll get you some water."
He took off his little round hat and ran back to where a tiny waterfall
came splashing and tumbling down the cliff, and, filling his hat full of
water, brought it and emptied it on the goat's head. The cool shower
revived Billy so that he raised his head a little, and by the time the
man got back with the second hatful of water he was able to drink a
little. This revived him still more, and presently he scrambled weakly
to his feet. He stumbled and swayed and nearly fell down, but by
spreading his feet out he managed to stand up, and by-and-by he took a
few tottering steps. With each step he grew stronger, and after another
good drink he was able to follow this kind man across the valley to the
little village.
Billy was glad enough to lie down and take a nap as soon as he got to
the man's house, and he did not wake up until late at night. After his
good sleep he felt as strong as ever and thought he would get something
to eat, then see if he could not find his mother. He found that he was
tied to a fence not far from a little whitewashed building, under which
ran a stream of water, but it did not take long for him to jerk himself
loose. Going toward the little white building, he smelled something
that reminded him of milk. He tried to get in at the door. It was
fastened with a wooden button but Billy did not care for that. He went
back a little piece to get a run, and bumped head first into the door,
which flew open at once.
"Milk!" said Billy, sniffing around in delight. "Nice sweet milk! I'm
sure that kind man would want me to have some."
There was a little board walk down the center of this spring-house, and
on each side of this were a number of crocks setting in the water, each
one of them covered with a plate and containing milk. A stone was laid
on top of each plate to weight the crock down in the water, and in
trying to nose off one of these plates Billy reached over too far and
fell. He landed right among the crocks, which, of course, bumped into
each other, breaking and overturning and spilling the milk, and making a
great clatter. At the noise, two dogs came running down and dashed into
the spring-house, where, seeing something floundering around in the
water, they promptly dived in after it and Billy found himself very
busy. The noise the dogs made aroused the man and his wife, and they,
too, came down; the noise they made aroused the neighbors on both sides,
who came running over to see what was the matter; a young man, who was
coming home late from calling on a girl, passed by that way and saw the
people from both sides running to this house and thought there must be a
fire, so he ran to the town hall, where the rope of the fire bell hung
outside, and began ringing it as loud as he could, which aroused
everybody in the village. Hearing the commotion many got out of bed and
came out on the streets to learn where the fire was.
All this time Billy, the cause of the hubbub, was battling with the dogs
among the milk crocks in the spring-house, and using his horns right and
left as hard as he could, until finally he was able to jump out between
them and on to the board walk. Out of the door he dashed, upsetting the
man and his wife, butting into the neighbors and, all dripping with
white milk, ran like the ghost of a goat through the village street,
making women and girls scream, scattering people right and left and
being chased by yelping dogs and halloing men and boys.
Billy easily outran his pursuers, but he never stopped until he was far
out in the country, where he crept under a stone bridge to rest from his
long run. As soon as he had got his breath, he broke into a near-by
field and made a splendid supper from some nice young lettuce heads,
then he trotted contentedly back under his bridge and went to sleep. In
the morning, bright and early, he went back into the market garden and
made a fine breakfast from beet and carrot tops, all sparkling with cool
dew. He enjoyed this garden very much and would like to have stayed
there until all the nice vegetables were eaten up, but he remembered how
Mr. Klausen had whipped him for breaking into his turnip patch one time,
and made up his mind that it would not be safe to linger in this part of
the country much longer, so he jumped the fence and started again on his
travels.
A little dog was trotting down the road, and as soon as he saw Billy he
began to bark. To ordinary persons the barking would have sounded
merely like a lot of bow-wows, but in the animal language it said:
"Where did _you_ come from, you big white tramp? You go right on away
from here or I'll call the police."
Billy wasn't going to take that sort of talk from any dog, big or
little, so he gave one "baah!" lowered his head, and started for that
dog. The dog suddenly found out that he had very important business
back home, and he started up the road as hard as he could go, with Billy
close after him. There never was a dog that ran so hard and so
earnestly as that one, and all the breath that he could spare from
running he used in howling, to let the folks at home know that he was
coming. All at once he was very anxious indeed to get home in time for
breakfast, and Billy was just as anxious to toss him over a fence before
he got there. Up one hill and down another went the two, lickaty-split,
first a little white streak bent low in the dust, and then a bigger
white streak coming along close behind in a whirling cloud. Pretty soon
they came in sight of a big square farmhouse with a wide-spreading roof,
and then the little dog, his tongue hanging away out, gave an extra wild
howl and ran faster than ever. When they got to the house the dog
turned in at the open gate with Billy right at his heels. He tore up
the path and around to the kitchen door, up the steps and into the
kitchen, pell-mell, where he dived under the table at which the Oberbipp
family was having breakfast.
Billy did not know where he was going and did not very much care. All
he knew was that he was chasing that dog and meant to catch him, so
without looking, he followed, too, up the steps and under the table.
Such shrieking and howling never was heard. Herr Oberbipp jumped up so
quickly that he upset his chair, and in trying to catch the chair he
upset himself, turning a back somersault on the floor and landing in a
tub of soapsuds in which the clothes were soaking to be washed. Frau
Oberbipp grabbed a loaf of bread in one hand and a sausage in the other,
and never left off screaming until she was out of breath. Greta
Oberbipp sprang up on her chair and shook her skirts as hard as she
could, while she helped her mamma scream. Baby Oberbipp jumped up on
the table at first, but the snarls and howls and "baahs" from underneath
excited his curiosity so much that he soon jumped down to the floor and
looked under the table. Then he began to dance on one foot and yell.
"Hang on, you Flohbeis!" he cried, for the dog, now full of courage
because he was under his own table, had grabbed Billy by the nose.
Shake his head as hard as he might, Billy could not loosen Flohbeis, or
Fleabite, as his name would be called in English, so he reared straight
up, and the table began to dance across the room toward the father of
the family, while Frau Oberbipp and Greta screamed louder than ever.
Herr Oberbipp was just getting out of the tub when the table got over to
him, and he made a grab at it when Billy gave an extra strong jump. The
table overturned, and all the breakfast things, with a mighty crash of
dishes, slid on Herr Oberbipp and knocked him back in the suds again.
By this time Billy had unfastened the grip of Fleabite from his nose and
had butted that yelping dog into the bottom of the tall clock case; then
Billy started for the door, but Herr Oberbipp was already yelling to
Caspar not to let him out.
"Grab him, Caspar! Hold him!" yelled the man. "He is a nice young
goat. He spoils our breakfast and we make a dinner of him."
When Billy heard that, he was more anxious than ever to get out, but
Caspar had slammed the door shut, and Billy, seeing it closed, tried to
butt it down. The door was too strong and Billy grew desperate. Caspar
ran after him and Billy suddenly turned, running under Caspar's legs and
toppling him over; then he made for the window, meaning to go through
it, sash and all. But Caspar had already jumped up, and, as the goat
went through a pane of glass, Caspar grabbed him by the hind legs and
held him, while Billy, fairly caught and pinched in between the window
bars, could only struggle with his fore feet.
Herr Oberbipp in the meantime got himself out of the tub of water, took
the butter out of his hair and the mush out of his shirt front,
untangled himself from the table-cloth, wiped the coffee from his face
and ran outside, where he grabbed Billy by the horns and pulled him on
through the window. Herr Oberbipp was a big, strong man, and, holding
Billy by the horns, he carried him at arm's length down to the barn,
letting him kick and struggle all he wanted to, and there he tied the
goat in a stall with a good stout wire, after which he went back to the
house and washed himself. Frau Oberbipp and Greta were still screaming.
The glass had given Billy two or three little cuts, but they did not
amount to much and he had already licked them clean when Caspar came out
with some water and a plate of cold potatoes which Billy was very glad
to get. While the goat was eating, Caspar examined the cut places, and,
running into the house, brought out something which he put on the cuts.
It smarted at first, and Billy tried to butt Caspar for putting it on,
but by-and-by he could feel that the smarts were being soothed and that
the cuts were healing by reason of the stuff that the boy had put on, so
he began to see that Caspar was not such a bad sort after all. He had
something to worry about, however, when, after breakfast, the farmer
came out and looked the goat over.
"Roast kid is a very fine dish," said the farmer. "I don't know to whom
this goat belongs, but whosever it is he owes us a meal, so we're going
to roast him."
*CHAPTER III*
*BILLY SEES HIS MOTHER AGAIN*
Nobody, not even a goat, likes to think of being roasted for dinner, and
so, the minute he heard that, Billy gave an extra hard tug at the wire,
but it only cut his neck and choked him and would not break. So he gave
it up and "baahed" pitifully while he looked to Caspar for help.
"Indeed you will not roast this goat," said sturdy Caspar. "He's my
goat; he chased my dog and I'm going to keep him."
Caspar looked up at his father and his father looked down at Caspar.
Billy looked up at both of them. Little Caspar and big Caspar stood
exactly alike, both of them with their fists doubled on their hips and
both of them with square jaws and firm lips, and it was big Caspar, who,
proud to see his boy looking so much like himself, finally gave in. He
laughed and said:
"All right, he's your goat, but you have got to take the whippings for
all the damage he does."
"Very well," said Caspar, "I'll do it," and his father walked away.
Billy was so pleased with this that he made up his mind to be very nice
to the boy, and when Caspar stooped down to take the empty plate away,
Billy ran his nose affectionately into young Oberbipp's hand. Right
after breakfast Caspar took off the wire from Billy's neck, holding a
switch in his hand to whip the goat over the nose in case he tried to
butt or run away. But Billy did neither of these things. He followed
his new master out in the yard, and there he was backed up between the
shafts of a little wagon that had been made for Fleabite. The dog
capered and barked and made a run or two at Billy, but the goat only
shook his horns at him and Fleabite ran under the barn. The dog was
jealous. He did not like the wagon, but, rather than have the goat
hitched up to it, he wanted to haul it himself.
[Illustration: He was backed up between the shafts of a little wagon.]
"It's no use, Fleabite," said Caspar, "you might as well make friends
with him. Anyhow, you're not big enough to haul this wagon, and you
always lay down in the harness. You can come along behind, though. I'm
going to drive in to Kasedorf and show my goat to cousin Fritz."
At first Billy was afraid that Kasedorf might be the village where he
had torn up the spring-house, and he had very good reasons for not
wanting to go back there, but when they clattered out of the gate Caspar
turned his head in the other direction, and he was very glad of this.
He was so pleased with his new master that he went along at a splendid
gait, pulling Caspar nicely up one hill after another. Fleabite ran
along, sometimes behind, sometimes ahead, and sometimes slipping up at
the side and snapping at Billy's nose; but Billy had only to shake his
horns in the dog's direction and Fleabite would run about a mile before
he would take it into his foolish head to try that trick again.
Pretty soon they went whizzing down a little hill and into a far
prettier village than the first one. Just as they turned into the main
street, along came a flock of goats driven by two men and half a dozen
boys, and who should Billy see in that flock but his own mother! Of
course he called loudly to her. She heard him, and though she was in
the center of the flock, quickly made her way to the edge, where she
kissed him. She had no time to tell him where she was going, nor he to
tell her all that had happened to him since he had fallen from the
cliff, but it was a joy for each of them to know that the other was
still alive and in good health.
Before they could speak further, a sharp whip cracked over them and the
lash landed on Billy's nose. He jumped back with the pain and again the
whip cracked. This time Billy's mother got the sting of it. Billy
looked around, and there, handling the whip, was fat Hans Zug! Billy,
mad as a hornet, whirled and was going to make for Hans, when Caspar,
who had jumped out of the cart, hit him a sharp crack across the nose
with his fist, and it pained Billy so much that the tears came to his
eyes and he could not see. Before he could make another start for Hans
or run after his mother, Hans had passed by, and Caspar's uncle
Heinrich, who had come up in the meantime, had Billy by the horns and
was holding him. Billy struggled as hard as he could to get away. He
wanted to butt Hans Zug for whipping his mother and himself, and he
wanted to go with his mother if he could, so he was a very sulky goat.
Even when Caspar took him to his uncle's house and gave him some nice,
tender vegetables and potato parings to eat, he was very sulky as he
stood there munching his dinner, so that when Fleabite came up and stole
some of his potato parings he butted that poor dog plump into a barbed
wire fence. You must not suppose that Fleabite liked potato parings.
He would not eat them at home, but he was such a jealous dog that he
wanted to eat up Billy's dinner, no matter what it was. After dinner
Caspar rubbed Billy's sleek coat until it was all clean and glossy, then
he let Fritz have a ride in the cart. Fritz drove proudly up into the
main street, and there, standing at the corner, talking to another man,
was Hans Zug!
"Yes," Hans was saying in English to the other man, "I go me also by
America next week. I got such a brother there what is making more as a
tousand dollars a year mit such a goat farm, and I take me my goats
over. I got a contract mit another Switzer what owns the land. Yess!"
Billy did not wait for any more, but raised up on his hind feet. Fritz
tried his best to hold him back, but he might as well have tried to hold
the wind, and Billy, feeling the tug at his reins, gave a jump that
toppled Fritz over backwards out of the cart. He gave one more jump and
landed with all his might and main against poor, round Hans, and as his
enemy went down Billy jumped on him and ran up one side of him and down
the other side. Poor Hans got up and clasped both pudgy hands on his
stomach.
"A thousand lightnings yet again!" he exclaimed as he looked sorrowfully
at his print in the dust. Hans had been butted that time for Billy's
mother; now Billy whirled and came back to give Hans one for himself,
but this time Hans was too quick for him and dodged behind a tree,
letting Billy butt the tree so hard that it stunned him, and before the
fiery tempered goat could make up his mind what had happened to him,
Caspar came running up and grabbed him by the horns. Billy could have
jerked away from Caspar, but he felt that the boy was now the best
friend he had, and he did not want to hurt him, so he let Caspar pat him
on his sleek sides and climb into the cart behind him.
"You'll have to walk, Fritz," said Caspar loftily. "It takes a good
strong boy to manage this goat."
Billy laughed at this, but when Caspar "clicked" for him to "get up," he
trotted right along without making any fuss about it.
At the next corner a carriage turned into the main street, and in it, on
the seat back of the driver, were a man and a boy, the latter being of
about Caspar's age.
"Oh, papa, do look at that beautiful goat!" exclaimed the boy. "Please
buy him for me, won't you?"
Mr. Brown shook his head.
"I don't mind you having a goat, Frank," he said, "but I can get you
just as good a one when we get back to America. There is no use in
carrying a goat clear across the ocean with us when there are so many at
home."
"All right," said the boy, obediently, and the carriage drove on.
Poor Billy! His heart sank. He had just heard from Hans that his
mother was going to America, and he did hope that this fine looking man
would buy him and take him there, too, so that he would have more chance
to find his mother; but now his chance was gone. Was it though? He was
not a goat to give up easily, and he made up his mind to try once more.
Billy stopped dead still to think it over. He simply could not bear to
let this man get away without another trial, so suddenly he whirled,
nearly upsetting the cart, and ran after the strangers. He soon caught
up with them, and then, slowing down, he trotted along at the side of
the carriage, showing off his beauty as much as he could.
"Oh, papa, there is that beautiful goat again," said the boy. "How I do
wish I could have him! Of course you can buy me one in America, as you
have promised to do, but they say that there are no goats in the world
so fine as the Swiss goats, and I am sure that I never saw any so pretty
as this one."
The man smiled indulgently at his son and stopped the carriage.
"How much will you take for your goat, my boy?" he asked.
"I don't want to sell him," replied Caspar. "He's my goat and I like
him."
Just then Billy tossed his fine head and pranced, daintily lifting his
feet.
"See how graceful he is!" exclaimed the boy. "Do buy him, papa!"
"I'll give you ten dollars for him," said the gentleman, pulling out his
pocketbook.
Caspar caught his breath. He knew the value of an American dollar, and
ten dollars was equal to more than forty German marks. It was a great
lot of money, too much for a poor boy to refuse. Caspar drew a long sigh
and began to slowly unhitch his goat. The driver of the carriage threw
him a strap, and with this he tied Billy to the rear axle of the
carriage.
Fleabite, as soon as Billy was safely tied, began to caper with joy and
to snap at Billy's heels, but Caspar, when the man had paid him his
money, grabbed Fleabite and hitched him to the cart. Then he ran up and
patted Billy affectionately on the flanks, and the carriage drove away,
with Billy following gladly behind in the dust.
Down the village street the carriage rolled until it came to a quaint
little Swiss inn, where it turned through a wide gateway that led into a
brick-paved courtyard. Here Billy was unfastened from the carriage by a
servant and led back of the inn, where he was tied by the strap to a
post, while Mr. Brown and his son Frank went to their mid-day meal.
Billy didn't like to be tied; he was not used to it, so he began to chew
his strap in two. It was very tough leather but Billy's teeth were very
sharp and strong, and he had it about half gnawed through when a little,
lean waiter came from the kitchen across the courtyard, carrying, high
up over his head, a great big tray piled with dishes of food. The
waiter saw Billy gnawing his strap in two and thought that he ought to
keep him from it.
"Stop that, you hammer-headed goat!" he cried and gave Billy a kick.
Billy was not going to stand anything like that, so he gave a mighty
jump and the strap parted where he had been gnawing upon it. As soon as
the lean waiter saw this he started to run, but, with the heavy tray he
was carrying, he could not run very fast and he looked most comical with
his apron flopping out behind him and his legs going almost straight up
and down in his effort to run and to balance the tray at the same time.
When Billy pulled the strap in two, the jerk of it sent him head over
heels and by the time he had scrambled to his feet again the waiter was
half way to the back door of the inn. The fat cook, who was looking out
of the door of the summer kitchen, saw Billy start for the waiter and he
started after the goat, but he got there too late, for the goat caught
up with the lean waiter in about three leaps and with a loud "baah!"
sent him sprawling. The big tray of dishes came down with a crash and a
clatter, and meats, vegetables, gravies and relishes, together with
broken dishes, were scattered all over the fellow who had kicked Billy,
all over the clean scrubbed bricks, spattered up against the walls and
into the long rows of geraniums that grew in a wooden trough at the end
of the house.
Billy turned and was about to trot back when he saw the fat cook coming
just behind him, so he ran right on across the little waiter, through
the mess and to the back door. Crossing the winter kitchen he found a
big, rosy-cheeked girl standing in his way and made a dive at her. With
a scream she jumped and Billy's horns caught in her bright, red-checked
apron, which jerked loose. With this streaming along his back, he
dashed on into a long hall, and there at the far door whom did he see,
just starting into the dining-room, but his old enemy, fat Hans Zug, who
had that morning whipped Billy's mother and himself. Billy stood up on
his hind feet for a second and shook his head at Hans, and then he
started for him. Hans saw him coming.
"Thunder weather!" he cried, and ran on through the door.
He tried to shut the door behind him but he was not in time, for Billy
butted against it and threw it open right out of Hans Zug's hand. The
long room into which Hans had hurried was the dining-room, and here were
seated, around a long table, a number of ladies and gentlemen, among
them Mr. and Mrs. Brown and their son Frank, waiting for the dinner that
now lay scattered around the courtyard. Everybody looked up, startled,
when Hans came bursting through the door closely followed by an angry
goat with a red-checked apron streaming from his horns. A great many of
the men jumped up and scraped their chairs back, adding to the
confusion, and a great many of the ladies screamed. Hans, not knowing
what to do, started to run around and around the table with Billy close
behind him and the fat cook close after Billy. Billy would easily have
caught Hans except that every once in a while Hans would upset a chair
in the goat's road and Billy would have to jump over the chair.
Sometimes the fat cook would almost catch Billy and finally did succeed
in catching the apron. When it came loose in his hand he did not know
what to do with it. He started to throw it down, he started to stuff it
in his pocket, he started to mop his perspiring face with it, and at
last he threw it around his neck and tied the strings in front to get
rid of it, then once more he chased after Billy, with the red apron
flopping out behind him.
At last he grabbed Billy by the tail just as he was going to jump over
the chair, and held on tightly, but Billy's jump had been too strong for
him and the fat cook stumbled head over heels. Jumping up the angry
cook ran until he again caught the goat, and this time he fell on top of
Billy and then both rolled over and over on the floor.
"Ugh!" grunted the fat cook. "Beast animal!"
Billy jumped up in such a hurry that he simply danced on the fat cook's
stomach. While Billy was doing this, Hans had stopped for a minute to
mop his face and to look wildly around for some way to escape. Around
and around, around and around the two raced, poor Hans puffing and
blowing and his face getting redder and redder every minute with the
chase.
Some men had been calsomining the wooden ceiling of the dining-room, but
they had quit during meal time. At one end of the room stood two
step-ladders with some long boards resting across them, and on these
were a number of buckets of green calsomine. Hans had tried to get out
through the doorway, but there were too many people crowded into it and
he knew that if he got into that crowd Billy would surely catch him, but
now he saw the step-ladders, and running to one of them started to climb
up. Billy, however, was through with the cook and had taken after Hans
again.
Hans, being so fat, was very slow in climbing a step-ladder, and he had
only puffed his way up one step when Billy tried to help him up a little
farther with his head and horns after a big running jump. Smash! went
the step-ladders. Crash! went the long boards. The buckets of green
calsomine flew everywhere. One of them tumbled down right over Hans'
head like a hat that was a couple of sizes too large for him, and the
green paint ran all over his face, down his neck and over his clothes.
Another bucket of it landed in the middle of the dining-room table,
splashing and splattering all over the clean cloth and over everybody
who sat around it.
Billy, having done more damage than a dozen ordinary goats could hope to
do in a lifetime, now made for the door, and the people there scattered
very quickly to let him through. Billy himself had received his share
of the green calsomine and he was a queer looking sight as he darted out
and went flying up the street, with an enemy after him in the shape of
the fat cook, who had grabbed down a shot-gun from where it hung over
the mantlepiece in the dining-room and had started out after him.
The cook was mad clear through and he was going to kill that goat.
Frank, however, was close after the cook, and being able to run much the
faster, soon caught up with him.
"Wait!" he panted, tugging at the tail of the cook's white jacket.
"Wait! That's my goat!" he cried. "Don't you kill my goat!"
"Away with you, nuisance!" cried the cook, jerking loose from Frank and
at the same time pushing him.
Frank fell over backwards, although it did not hurt him, and while he
was getting to his feet the cook took careful aim at the flying goat and
pulled the trigger.
*CHAPTER IV*
*THE BURGOMASTER IS BUMPED*
Billy Mischief was lucky. In his excitement the fat cook had forgotten
that the shotgun had not been loaded for five years. The cook was so
angry that he nearly burst a blood vessel. Grabbing the gun by the
barrel, he jammed it, as he thought, butt end on the ground. Instead of
that, however, he struck his broad foot a mighty thump.
"Thunder and hailstones!" he screamed, and jerking his foot up he began
to hop along on the other leg, making the most ridiculous faces while he
did it. In spite of the pain that the gun must have caused the cook,
Frank could not help but laugh, and he forgot all his anger at the push
the man had given him.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank when he could catch his breath. "Does
it hurt?"
The cook did not understand English but he felt that Frank was poking
fun at him, and stopped his dance long enough to shake his fist at
Frank. He wanted to say something very sharp and cutting to the boy,
but he could not think of anything strong enough, so, after drawing his
breath hard two or three times and screwing up his mouth with pain, he
turned the gun muzzle end down, and, using it for a crutch, swung along
back to the inn, muttering and mumbling all the way.
Frank laughed so hard that he had to sit down at the edge of the
sidewalk a moment to hold his sides, but all at once he thought of his
goat. There it was, going up the street, and although little more than
a green and white speck now, Frank bravely took after it. He probably
never would have caught it except that Billy, also being tired and
feeling himself free from pursuit, stopped before a big house set well
back from the street, on a wide, fine lawn.
Now the house in front of which he had stopped was the residence of the
burgomaster, or mayor of the village, a very pompous fellow who thought
a great deal of his own importance, and in the center of his lawn he had
a fountain of which he was very proud. The water in the base of the
fountain was clear as crystal and it looked very cool and inviting to
Billy after his dusty run, and, besides, the paint on his back felt
sticky. Without wasting any time about it, Billy trotted up across the
nice lawn and jumped into the fountain for a bath, just as the
burgomaster came out of his front door with his stout cane in his hand.
"Pig of a goat!" cried the burgomaster, hurrying down the walk and
across the lawn. "Out with him! Police!" and he drew a little silver
whistle from his pocket, whistling loudly upon it; then, shaking his
cane in the air, he ran up to the edge of the fountain, the waters of
which were turned a bright green by this time. Billy saw him coming,
but, instead of jumping out of the fountain and running away, he merely
splashed around to the far side of the basin. The burgomaster ran to
that side of the fountain but Billy simply splashed around out of his
reach. Then the burgomaster, up on the stone coping of the fountain,
began to run around and around after Billy, the goat keeping just out of
his reach and the burgomaster trying to strike him with the cane. At
last, after an especially hard blow, the burgomaster went plunging
headlong into the green water of the basin, where he floundered about
like a cow in a bath tub.
Billy jumped on him and used him as a stepping stone out of the basin,
running back to the street just as Frank and a stupid looking policeman
came running up from different directions. At first the policeman was
going to arrest the goat, but Frank pointed to where the burgomaster was
still flopping around in the fountain and the policeman ran to help the
burgomaster, who was now dyed a beautiful green, face and hands and
clothes, while Frank took Billy by one horn and raced back down the
street with him. This was what Billy liked. He was a young goat, and,
like other young animals, was playful, and he thought that Frank's
racing with him was good fun, so he went along willingly enough, and
when Frank let go of his horn, he galloped along beside his young master
very contentedly.